LOVE A-LIMPING.

A rhyming gallant, once, on wing above, Rode Pegasus to Venus’ Court of Love; Whereat her pretty brats came running out To hold the heavenly horse and kiss his snout, And pat his flank, and preen his plumey wing, And hearken with delight his nickering; And of his restlessness recked not, till put Was pawing hoof on one sweet baby foot; Then might been seen a truly curious thing, Cupid blubbering at a horse’s bit-ring. Quo’ poet, laughing: “Faith, I did not know That pains of Love were ever in the toe!” “Not that,” the darling said, “Boo-hoo!—but—shame! No lady—e’er will—he-heed—a Love—so lame!” In his own tears kind Venus washed his face, And wiped it with her golden tresses’ fleece— “Don’t cry, dear boy, for mother wills it so That even limping Loves may often conquests know.”

In love faults foretell the future Because only organic faults survive— The offence that has been will be.

Liberty is a God-name forever taken in vain.